by P Nelson
“Yes, Master.” Blushing, he scuttled down the hall.
“Be careful, Master Flynn.” Thea followed him to the room where all the security feeds around the dungeon were. “You might have another dungeon groupie.” Flynn never lacked for asses to spank and wrists to tie up.
“Not my type, but if the coffee isn’t hot, I’m not above giving him a couple of spankings to improve his attitude.” The rich timbre of Flynn’s speech floated back to her. They entered the room of monitors that were now blank since the club wasn’t open.
“You’re such Dom,” Thea laughed. Her cheeks were tight with the effort.
“This is going to pass. Things may not look the same on the other side, but you don’t know they won’t be better.” Flynn leaned against the opposite wall, his expression only came with seeing shit go down and surviving the fallout.
“I’m a survivor,” Thea whispered. She was a survivor. She’d walked through hell, witnessed evil in her job to become the woman she was today. And she would fight for her achievements.
“Good girl,” Flynn’s praise bristled. She had a snarky comment on the tip of her tongue when Linkin entered the room with Dillon following on his heels. Bondie arrived a moment later.
“I’m sorry, Master Flynn, I’ll get coffees for everyone.” The sub ducked out of the room and rushed to comply with an order no one had given. Linkin nodded to Flynn, and Thea and approached the bank of monitors, and the screen burst into life.
“Are you OK?” Dillon came straight over and just as Thea had predicted earlier, tried to take her in his arms. It was tempting. So fucking tempting, but her earlier words replayed in her head. I’m a survivor. Not we’re survivors. She managed to keep the hug brief, disentangling his arms from around her body.
“I’m fine.” Thea studied him. “Why are you here?”
“Because if we’re not careful, every person in this room is going to eat a shit sandwich.” Linkin was firing up his laptop as images on the screen in front of him moved in double time.
“Someone sent me pictures from inside The Feather Flogger this morning.” Dillon respected Thea’s space and stepped back.
“What?” Thea glanced at the back of Linkin’s head.
“Yes.” Linkin leaned back in the office chair that looked too delicate to accommodate his shoulders. Thea stared at the screen as he scrolled slowly through a list of pictures that someone had taken of their confrontation with Stacks and Thompson last night.
“Shit. How the hell did these images get out?” She had to warn Stacks and Thompson even though their orders were not to speak to her.
“Thank you, sub.” Dillon spoke to Bondie at the door to the surveillance room, using his body to block Linkin’s laptop screen.
“My pleasure, Master Dillon.” Thea thought Bondie’s expression of devotion was over the top.
“Thank you, Bondie, we’ll shout if we need anything else.” Thea grabbed the cardboard coffee tray out of the young man’s hands.
“I bought four different lattes,” Bondie said quickly before the door shut on any further words.
“Doesn’t he have a Dom?” Thea looked at the messy writing on each of the paper cups before selecting a vanilla latte and handing the three remaining cups to Dillon.
“Big Daddy BB released him,” Dillon replied in a conversational tone. “Bondie was turning into a diva sub.” He handed the cardboard tray to Linkin.
“Here are the stills from the dungeon floor from when the first picture was taken.” Linkin swiped a few fingers over his keypad. “This is the picture.” He enlarged it on the screen.
Thea along with Dillon and Flynn crowded around Linkin. She studied the picture and scanned the screens filled with people watching as Dillon interacted with Stacks. Dillon’s body language in the picture was throwing off some serious get the fuck away from me vibes that Stacks was either unaware of or was choosing to ignore to get closer to her prey. Linkin used slow motion to pinpoint the exact time to match the picture sent to Dillon. One of the screens showed Thompson’s fist smashing into Dillon’s face. Thea winced.
“It wasn’t so bad.” Dillon’s comment sounded loud in the enclosed space. The warmth from his body seeping into her own bones forcing her to take a step away from him. He was too fucking irresistible.
“Here.” Linkin pointed to one of the screens on the far left. “This is where the shot was taken from.” They all looked the screen over, but there were several people in the frame.
“Enlarge it.” Flynn shifted on the other side of Thea, his arm brushing against her own. The contact hardly made an impression on her. Dillon had moved closer to see the screen they were all scrutinising, his arm was brushing against her, his breath on her cheek. Waves of heat started to bloom in her lower belly. The sexual heat from him was going to burn through her veneer in a minute. The need for control vied for the urge to satisfy her hunger on his body. Not even taking a deep breath helped. This is what being a drug addict felt like when craving the next hit. She reached out to trace a finger down Dillon’s arm.
“Thought I would find you all in here.” Master Lovett opened the door. “Wow. There’s enough testosterone swirling around to knock a sub out.” He wiped his hand over his face. “My apologies, Mistress Thea, not sure where that leaves you.”
“Accepted, Master Lovett,” Thea replied, and Dillon cursed in his head. She had been reaching out to touch him when Lovett had barged into the room. Her finger outstretched ready to meet his skin. His cock was hard thinking about how her nail would feel dragging down his arm.
“Did you bring the files?” Linkin twisted in his chair to regard Master Lovett.
“Got them here.” Lovett indicated some folders under his arm as he entered the room.
“Great.” Linkin held out a callused hand, and Master Lovett offered the files.
“Play the video in slow motion,” Master Flynn ordered. Dillon’s gaze travelled back to the screen where Linkin started the recording again. He focused on a black kit bag, left on a table in the bar. Kinksters walked around it, some even took chairs from the table, but no one claimed the bag.
“Damn.” Linkin swore. “From the angle of the pictures. That bag is the source.” He clicked on the video, matching up angles with the picture of Dillon, Thea, and the undercover cops until he had presented the whole scene over all the computer screens. If Dillon wasn’t so weirded out by the whole thing, he would have been damn impressed with Linkin’s tech abilities. Dillon stared at the screen as Linkin fast-forwarded the tapes, Thea had focused her attention back on the screen; her earlier need to reach out to him forgotten.
“Shit.” Thea swore as the screens flashed black. Linkin rewound the tape and stopped it on the last scene of the night. The dungeon supervisor would have made sure the floor and changing rooms were empty of customers before the cleaning started.
“It was there one moment and gone the next.” Linkin flicked between the two screens.
“This is not possible.” Thea straightened and walked out the door. Linkin flicked his fingers over the keyboard, and Dillon, along with everyone else in the room, watched as she walked down the staff corridors, pushed onto the dungeon floor, and wandered over to the table near the bar where the bag had been.
She stood beside the table and looked around the dungeon. She was sexier than any woman had a right to be even in hoodie and jeans. Dillon only half-listened as Thea’s image on the camera feed came into view. Bondie walked onto the floor, and Thea started speaking to him. The way her stance changed as she confronted the sub made Dillon’s balls ache. She was never going to sub for him, but he wanted a taste of her fire again, feel her fighting for her dominance.
“You with us?” Master Flynn’s question broke through Dillon’s increasingly X-rated thoughts.
“Yeah.” Dillon jerked his gaze away from the monitors and focused his attention on Flynn. Just don’t check the front of my jeans. He was an idiot with the semi he was sporting in his pants.
&nb
sp; “We’re going to have to go through all these files and find out who attended last night that matches from the dates where the girls also came to the club.” Linkin grimaced at the stack of folders in his hand. “We’re going to have a serious discussion on why this is inefficient for the environment and my brain, Master Lovett.”
“We also need to get access to the sign-in and nondisclosure agreements for the two other clubs where the girls frequented.” Master Flynn’s brows came down, and Dillon recognised he was already thinking of a way to bypass the police and retrieve the information on his own.
“I can hack into their systems and see what I can find,” Linkin continued to scowl at Master Lovett. “If they’ve progressed from the age of the dinosaurs, we might be in luck.”
“Fuck you, Master Linkin.” Master Lovett stretched up to his full height, which wouldn’t have even come to Linkin’s chin had he been standing. “I remember when you were a pissant newbie tourist chafing in your first set of leathers.” Dillon’s jaw fell open, and he stared at the shorter man. Linkin didn’t appear chastised or even angry at Master Lovett’s words.
“How long do we have before we legally need to turn the email evidence over to the police?” Master Flynn cut through whatever argument might be brewing between Lovett and Linkin. Shifting his cold stare from Lovett, Linkin blinked once before answering.
“Not long. We need to get these pictures and the email address over to Thea’s partner quickly. Not because they’re going to get any real use out of them, but this asshole now has Officer Stacks in his sights. We cannot risk him going after her again if she decides to play undercover sub again.” Linkin set the folders down on the desk in front of him.
Dillon looked back at the screen and noticed Thea was missing from the feed. He checked the hallway leading back to the security room, but it was empty, too.
“Thea cannot be perceived to be interfering in this investigation any further.” Dillon glanced at Flynn as he mentioned Thea. “Her name is all over the papers now anyway; she’s too high profile to get any significant information.”
“She’ll be lucky to keep her job,” Dillon said under his breath. Linkin glanced at him.
“Do you think she realises the department will burn her?” Linkin was as forthright as ever, and Dillon looked over his shoulder to the door. A funny feeling travelled through him when he didn’t see her there or on any of the monitors. A prickling of his senses bored deep down in his bones that not everything was right in his world. Trying not to act like a lovesick asshole, Dillon inhaled deeply.
“Whether she realises what will probably happen to her and that her time on the force is undoubtedly over, is irrelevant. This guy’s email threatened her to me. This is personal, and this asshole knows that Thea is...” Dillon stopped. Every eye in the room focused on him, and for the first time in his life he was speechless. What the hell was Thea to him? She was more to him than he was to her. But it didn’t matter right now. His instincts screamed for him to act. Find Thea. Lay eyes on her and make sure she’s safe. He was a fucking idiot.
“She’s a police detective and a dominant in her own right,” Master Flynn pointed out. “The profile I had Calla work up on this asshole’s targets doesn’t fit her at all.”
“This guy is obsessed with me.” Dillon placed his hands on his hips and recognised he sounded like a fucking diva, but this was for Thea. “He sent me pictures of Thea last night. Pictures of us both together. He knows who we are. This is personal.” His own ridiculous anxiety over not being able to locate Thea’s immediate whereabouts spiked his frustration. She was probably in the toilets. “If some asshole sent you pictures of Calla, I don’t think you’d be so fucking blasé about it.” Master Flynn’s stare turned arctic, and Master Lovett coughed.
“Calla is a sub under my care. The situation is totally different. I don’t have any idea what your relationship with Mistress Thea is, Master Dillon, but it cannot include a Dom/sub power exchange unless you want to share with the rest of the class.” Flynn’s words were cold enough to freeze the heart of any self-respecting sub, but Dillon was no subservient.
“Neither is your relationship with Calla.” Linkin turned his face back to the monitors. It must be crossing line if Linkin couldn’t even bear to watch what happened next. “You had a training contract you didn’t even finish. I finished it, and I’ve topped her on many more occasions than you. If anyone is going to claim they have a Dom/sub power exchange with Calla, it would probably be me.”
The office became quiet. Only the sound of the electricity running through the computer system burned through the tension Dillon had created with Master Flynn. The expression of pain on the man’s face when Dillon had said he topped Calla more made Dillon want to bite his own damn tongue off.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Dillon gritted out. “I’m being an asshole.”
“It’s everything.” Master Flynn’s muscles relaxed a fraction. “You, along with everyone else in this office, is under an enormous amount of stress.” Master Flynn was silent for another minute before he continued. “I don’t know what your relationship is with Mistress Thea, but that’s your and her business. You want to protect her, and so do we.”
“I shouldn’t have brought Calla into it. I’m an asshole.” Dillon held his hand out. Master Flynn took it, and they shook hands for a second before Flynn pulled him into a man hug, and backs were slapped loudly.
“I’m an asshole, too, and nobody minds,” Linkin commented. He leafed through the folders.
“Are you sure about that?” Master Lovett had moved to a seat beside Linkin and was searching through a file folder of his own. Dillon searched the monitors again, the hairs on the back of his neck going up and the tension not dissipating one iota.
“Where the hell is Thea?” he muttered and strode out of the room. Conscious the rest of the Doms might be watching him move down the corridor, he kept his pace even. Dillon pushed the door to the dungeon open. Even though he’d seen on the monitors Thea wasn’t anywhere in the room, he still looked around at all the dungeon furniture cleaned and waiting to be used this evening. Striding over to the women’s washroom door, Dillon knocked loudly.
“Thea, you all right in there?” he shouted. No response. He knocked loudly again. “You need any help?” The question was stupid, but he didn’t know what to say. She might be crying her eyes out in there. The morning had been full of unpleasant surprises, and even though she was a Domme, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a person. Still no response.
Dillon pressed the door open and stuck his head inside. They had all been naked around one another and generally engaging in some hectic kinky shit, what was a toilet cubicle between dungeon friends?
“Thea?” he called out and pushed his shoulders the rest of the way through the door. Dillon shoved each of the doors open to reveal pristine clean toilets. Turning to face the mirror, he studied his frowning features as he tamped down his rising panic. When he found Thea talking on her phone, he was going to feel like a complete idiot.
He left the bathroom and crossed the dungeon to the ladies’ changing room. Not bothering to knock this time, Dillon burst through the door and searched the cramped space full of lockers and benches. His heart started to beat rapidly. With a hand on the door leading to the front of the club, Dillon schooled his expression. Dillon peered out of the door and checked the reception area. Empty. What the fuck.
“Dillon!” A shout from inside of the dungeon had his heart rate kicking up and a lump forming in his throat. He was out of breath before he even turned and ran out of the ladies’ changing room back onto the dungeon floor. The look on Master Flynn’s face told him everything he needed to know. He should have listened to his fucking instincts. Dillon’s hindbrain was screaming danger at him, but he thought he was being an idiot.
“Just tell me.” The words croaked out of the back of Dillon’s throat, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep the panic attack already building in his chest from erupting.
>
Chapter Seven
A low moan rumbled out the back of Thea’s throat. She must have tied one on last night to feel this bad. Her arms and legs were too heavy. What did she have to drink last night? And where the hell was she? Only the bathroom floor was this uncomfortable. Cracking a swollen eyelid open, a wave of nausea rippled through her stomach, and she started to dry heave uncontrollably. She was upright, but her body sagged against what she thought might be a St Andrew’s Cross.
“Stop struggling, my dear girl. None of the others have ever escaped.” A curiously girlish voice floated into her ears. A sickly hand passed over Thea’s forehead. Under normal circumstances, the caress would be comforting. It made shivers break out over her skin. She strained her neck trying to get away from the clammy persistent touch. “Hush now, my dear. I’ve a show for you.”
“Don’t touch me.” Her demand sounded ragged. Thea pulled strength from the marrow of her bones to peel both her eyelids open and focus. The figure of a man slowly took shape, but Thea had to blink rapidly to bring the man’s features into focus.
“I’m going to be doing a lot more than touching you.” The man she recognised from her investigation tilted forward and whispered the words in Thea’s ear causing her to jerk back from the intimacy.
“Fuck off.” Thea ground out and tested her restraints with more force.
“Not to worry, we’ll be doing so much more than fucking.” He bit her earlobe hard, and Thea was unable to stop the gasp shooting from her mouth.
“Bastard,” she hissed and struggled farther away from her tormentor.
“I assure you my parents were married.” Esposito, the Reverend of The Supplicants of the Lord, stood back up again. Thea caught a quick motion of his hand. She heard the crop whistling through the air before the sting of the hard leather beat against her breasts. Teeth biting into her cheeks hard enough to draw blood, Thea only let out a tiny whimper as she tried to control the pain. Once the sting had passed, she turned her eyes to the man.
